Legend
by ColonelShaw
Summary: Every event has a story. Every story has a vantage point. Every vantage point is a legend. Everyone invovled in any event has a legend. Those legends are told here, in the event of the War-on-Terror.


Legend

_Legend of the Red_

His knees sloshed through the water, his crimson jeans turning a deep red. He was alert, knowing danger could be a step away. The water was infested, leeches clung to his pant legs, hungry for his blood.

He crossed the river and stepped onto land. He put his equipment down and began to pluck the blood-suckers off of him.

When he finished, he looked around to view the surrounding area. Palm trees, long grass and water was all he could see. His confusion had left him half an hour ago.

_Welcome to Afghanistan, it's all desert here, dress for the sand…_

The area he had been lost in looked like it was some sort of hotel resort. Only their were no paths, no tour guides, no would-you-like-a-martini-sirs. Nothing.

All was silent but the running water he had just emerged from. He reached down and picked up his canteen. He took a long swig of water and wiped his lips. He took off his red army hat.

Didn't matter if it was nice here in paradise lost, it's still hot as hell. He wiped his face with a towel and plopped down on a rock.

He looked around. He knew he was still in enemy territory. If they saw him…

He took off his jacket. He was wearing a red undershirt under it. His dog tags jangled as he threw his jacket to his equipment. He grabbed them in his hand and held them tight. One was not his. The extra one, one to identify him were he to be found KIA, was his. The other, which hung around his neck on the original chain, was his love's.

Something rustled in the bushes behind him. He jumped up and pulled out his pistol, which was still attached to his belt. He waited. Finally, the perpetrator came out of hiding. The rat squeaked and scurried away from him to another bush.

He returned his weapon to his belt.

The desert. That would be where they are looking. They wouldn't be looking in here. The battlefront was in the desert.

He gathered his things and put his coat back on. He needed to get to the desert. He gripped his dog tags, giving his lover's a kiss. He began to make his way through the trees and the bush, leaving his red hat behind. He no longer wished to have it.

_Legend of the Glasses_

His eyes were protected. The sand whipped around, scratching at his ears and face. But his eyes were protected. He could see.

He did not wish to see. He wanted to shut his eyes, for it to end, for him to be home with his daughter and wife. His forehead stung as more sand struck him.

His shins were sifting through the sand, walking towards a destination they could not perceive. He was lost. He hadn't the slightest idea of where he was going. His equipment was taken from him, his compass, his weapons.

His water. His throat screamed for it. He could not stop it.

The sun sent rays down on him wave after wave. The wind was blowing the sand around. But it was a humid, dry wind and gave no relief.

He ripped his blue under shirt and used it to cover his nose and mouth. His forehead still stung. The wind continued to thrash about.

He collapsed. He lay, face down, in the orange sand. There was no point in going on. He did not know if he was going in the right direction. The wind howled past his ears, creating voices. Voices only he could hear. The voices screamed his past at him.

_Get up! You're pathetic, Seville!_

_Why can't you be more like your brother?_

_Can you help me with this? Can you be useful for once in your life?!_

_Come on, Si. I know you can do it…_

_Seville! Lead your platoon into battle!_

_I believe in you…_

He flipped to lay on his back. "What do you want me to DO?!?!" He screamed at the sky.

_I love you…_

The wind began to grow more violent. It whipped past his ears. It sounded like a helicopter to him. He closed his eyes. The sun still shined through. The sand still scratched at his face. But his eyes were closed. Nothing mattered. He passed out.

_Legend of the Hungry_

When he caught sight of the soup and bread, tears came to his eyes. He had not eaten in days and that was his own fault. He was sent into the desert, only MREs to eat. He ate them within days, of course. He was left with no food afterwards.

He was stranded in the desert for days with no food. Seeing the food at the camp made him emotional. He began to cry, his tears streaming down his face and onto his green t-shirt. He was not alone. Though the other soldiers did not eat their food as quickly as he did, they still were left without it in the desert.

The men stood in line for the food. When he got his, he couldn't express enough thanks. He sat down at the nearest table and began to scarf down his food.

He had always enjoyed eating. It made him happy. And eating now made him the happiest man in the world.

He finished. He was not full. He stood up and got seconds. And thirds. He enjoyed the food. When he had his fill, he sat at a table alone.

The camp was full of soldiers and nurses. Both of his brothers were missing. He put his head in his hand and sighed. He reached his hand into one of the many pockets on his jacket and pulled out a picture.

He stared at the picture for a few minutes. A soldier walked behind him and noticed the picture. He leaned down next to him.

"Why do you have a picture of the camp nurse?" The soldier asked.

_Legend of the Beauty_

She stood at the edge of the road, her bag at her feet. She wore khaki short shorts and a pink tank top. A scorpion scurried across her boots. It was the least of her problems.

Her legs and arms were covered in large bruises and cuts. Her right hand was wrapped in gauze. Her hips and stomach were purple from the bruises on them and her thighs and knees were bloody from the unclean cuts and scratches on them. Her face was completely intact and free of any damage. Her lips were a faded red color, as the lipstick she was wearing was fading. Her face was a lush peach color and her eyelashes stood erect with mascara. She had done well to keep her beauty.

She looked up and down the sandy road. The moonlight shined down on her, lightening her body. She saw the jeep sailing down the road towards her. It came to a stop in front of her. A man in a khaki outfit exited the car.

The man picked up her bag and put it in the passenger seat. He began to clean the area so she could sit.

She heard what sounded like footsteps behind her. She pulled out her knife and twirled around. Her dog tags-one was not hers- clinked as she turned. There was no one there, only a few cacti and a tumbleweed. She eyed the area suspiciously, then returned her knife to her belt.

She turned back to the man. He had a concerned look on his face. She shrugged and walked to the other side of the jeep. She hopped in the side and grabbed her bag.

As the jeep made it's way into the night, she began to dig into her bag. She pulled out a smaller, pink bag. The man eyed it suspiciously.

She opened the bag and pulled out a small mirror. She flipped it open and looked at her face. She proceeded to pull a tube of lipstick. The man chuckled but she did not respond. She circled her lips with the red lipstick. When she finished, she closed the mirror. She had done well to keep her beauty.

From a distance, a man laid on a rock. He had a missile launcher over his shoulder and he was waiting for enemy vehicles. He has had no luck so far. As he began to doze off, he heard the sound of an engine. He opened his eyes, alerted. A small jeep was driving down the road.

American.

He opened the sight of the weapon and gazed down it. The vehicle only had two passengers; a man and a woman. He was ordered to fire any vehicle that passed. He pulled the large trigger.

She heard it before she saw it, the soft whirring of the missile. She turned and saw it flying towards their jeep. Her first instinct was to grab her bag and cover her face. She was doing well to keep her beauty.

The missile struck the jeep and exploded, sending the vehicle flying through the air. It crashed down onto the ground. The once mighty jeep was now a flaming hunk of metal. It's passengers were dead.

The smoke from the flames drifted upwards towards the starry sky.

_Legend of the Timid_

Behind her glasses, her eyes darted across the desert, searching for her husband. Her face was expressionless. A soldier sat across from her. He was watching her. She didn't notice.

The helicopter flew through the desert and she could swear that every cactus was her husband. She had her hands in her lap and she fiddled with her ring. Their daughter was at the camp, in good hands. But she could not help being worried.

The soldier's radio cackled. "Six bravo oliver golf echo yellowstone…" The soldier turned the radio down. He looked up to see her watching him.

"What they are saying is no concern to us." He said. "Our mission is to find him."

She nodded and looked back out at the desert. It was bright orange and extremely hot. She did not believe he was still alive.

She continued to play with her ring while staring out into the desert. The cacti were scattered about. One had fallen over. She stared at the cactus. It rolled over.

She stood up. "Stop!" The helicopter lurched and she almost fell over. "There!" The soldier saw him, laying in the sand.

The helicopter lowered to the ground. She jumped off and ran to the lying figure.

_Legend of the Pigtails_

She lay on her cot, in the dry heat of her tent, fanning herself with her hand. She was listening to rock and roll, the only music they played out here. The camps activities could be heard buzzing around outside.

The walkie-talkie next to her crackled. She grabbed it and listened. A man was speaking. His voice was filled with excitement.

"The attack on the front was a success! THE WAR IS OVER! I REPEAT, THE WAR IS OVER!!!!"

She remained where she lay, taking it all in. It wasn't until she heard the cheers from outside her tent did the smile come to her face. She jumped up off her cot and squealed. As she did so, her blonde pigtails bounced.

Could it be true? It had to be a joke. It wasn't one. She turned her back to the tent opening and began to put her boots on. She heard the clicking of the buttons from the tent flaps.

"Hey!" She yelled, turning around suddenly. "You can't just-"

She stood in total shock of who had entered her tent.

_Legend of the Reunited_

They stood still for a moment, not knowing what to do. Then, he spoke.

"Eleanor…"

She ran to him and embraced him. He was surprised, then he put his arms around her, holding her tightly. They hugged for a long time. Finally, she pulled away.

"It's over, Theodore." She said. She had been crying, a good kind of cry. He was here. "The war is over."

He stared blankly at her. "What about my brothers?"

She looked down and shook her head. "They're still out there, Theo."

He thought for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. "Your sisters?"

She looked up at him. "They're still out searching. Well, one of them is, anyway. Brittany is coming back now, in a jeep." She looked at her watch. "She should be back any minute now."

He rubbed the back of his neck. He thought hard. The war is over…? He had heard the celebrating, the cheers, but he had figured that the men were just playing a card game or something. He didn't think…

She hugged him again, tighter than the last. He held her and squeezed. He had a bad feeling in his gut. The war was over…

What about the missing soldiers? The thought made him grip her tighter. His brothers… What about other dangers?

"It's over…" She whispered. She buried her face in his shoulder. He held her as tight as he could. He did not believe it. With hidden enemies and missing links, he knew the truth. This war was NOT over. Far from it.

***

Not sure if I like that ending, but oh well, it's already up. If you're not good enough of a chipmunk fan, the order was Alvin, Simon, Theodore, Brittany, Jeanette and Eleanor and then of course Ellie and Theo. Sorry if it was really confusing. Thanks for reading.


End file.
